Most Faithful Mirror
by MutedClamour
Summary: Watson can't help but cry when Holmes' returns from the dead in 'The Empty House'. Holmes/Watson.


_**Author's Note: **__from a shkinkmeme prompt. I own nothing, as usual._

I recall leaning to the warm palm at my cheek, the taste of brandy clinging to my tongue as I felt something cool against my lips. I blinked tiredly as I regained consciousness, finding myself against my chair. My eyes met against a familiar face and I felt my heart practically leap to my throat as my memory came rushing back. _Holmes._

"My dear Watson, I owe you a thousand apologies." I opened my mouth to speak, but no words escaped me. Instead I reached to grip his arm, feeling the fabric against my fingers, the familiar smell of him returning. "I had no idea that you would be so affected."

Surely I was going mad, but that calming voice seemed too real, his breath barely grazing my cheek as I looked into those grey eyes. I wish never to wake from this dream, this nightmare when I realize I've truly lost my mind and still alone.

"Is it really you? Can it indeed be that you are alive? Is it possible that you succeeded in climbing out of that awful abyss?" I blurted out, I felt myself tense, expecting him to disappear just like he had so nights those past three years, leaving me to force back tears as I felt the night air's chill from my bed.

My worry was clear on my face and he questioned whether I was fit to discuss these things and I was quick to assure him. _This was real, oh it had to be. _I felt the corner of my mouth twitch until it bloomed to a full smile and I could not control myself as I let out a small cry, overwhelmed. His hands were against my cheek again and I did not fight the urge to lean up and let his lips graze mine. _I remember this. _

His lips were hesitant but certainly not against the touch as he slowly kissed me back, letting it linger. And I had missed him, so much that I stood up from my chair, pulling him against me and my desk. I heard the books he had been carrying as part of his disguise falling to the floor.

"W-Watson." Holmes withdrew for a moment, placing his hand lightly to my mouth. I kissed his fingers, taking his wrists to allow myself to move my lips to his palm. He gasped at the contact and I smiled softly at him, feeling the pending tears at my eyes just from the thought of having Holmes back.

Our clothing quickly created a formless pile on the floor as we retired to my chambers. We did not bother to light the room and I was thankful that I had forgotten to open the curtains today, though my window remained unclosed from the previous night. I kissed every bit of skin I could reach while I was on top of him, careful not to miss a spot. Holmes was silent and observing as always, his hands settling on my head. His fingers running through my hair as my lips grazed at his shoulder and collarbone with feather-like touches. Skin against skin, I would never have imagined feeling this again, and my heart swelled until I released a pained choke.

Before I could do anything else, I was pulled face to face with my partner, his eyes worried. His gray eyes burned into me and I felt the three years worth of bent up emotion finally release, tears finally escaping me. I was not sure whether Holmes could see me crying and I would never have realized it, so lost, if they didn't fall against his cheeks. He did not question me and once I started I could not stop, and he held me close. Silent. Understanding.

I could taste the salt of my tears as I kissed his face, murmuring his name and I prayed this was not a dream, for I would surely die when I wake. He gave me a soft chuckle, pushing me back from him so I could see him place my palm against the left of his chest with what little light escaped my curtains. The beating against my skin did not help the tears that continued to escape me. Tears of happiness and no longer of the pain that had filled me those long years.

I collapsed against him again, open in every way imaginable. He remained quiet and simply continued to hold me. I didn't question how he managed to escape death, taken over by the fact that he was with me again.

I recall falling asleep not too long after in his embrace with him murmuring in my ear.

"It is all right, old boy. I'm here. _I'm here_."


End file.
